


"Is that my shirt?"

by harnessthelight



Category: Arrow - Fandom, olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2386556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harnessthelight/pseuds/harnessthelight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Anon asked: "Is that my shirt?"<br/>Note: Shout out to makepatronusesnothorcruxes because this prompt was on her list too</p>
    </blockquote>





	"Is that my shirt?"

**Author's Note:**

> Anon asked: "Is that my shirt?"  
> Note: Shout out to makepatronusesnothorcruxes because this prompt was on her list too

"Is that my shirt?" Oliver asked as he descended the stairs. Dropping off his hood and setting down his bow, he smirked as his eyes scanned Felicity’s body again. 

"Uh, yeah," She admitted, looking down at herself. "I’m sorry, Oliver. I was using the kickboxing dummy and then I heard my monitor’s alarm- and then silly me couldn't find my sweater and this was hanging off one of the bars on the salmon ladder-"

"Felicity, it’s fine," He smiled. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me anyway." Her eyebrows shot up. "Uh, so what triggered your alarm?"

"What alarm?" She asked, confused. He gestured to her computer and she snapped out of her daze. "Oh! That alarm. There’s been a carjacking in Downtown   
Starling, but according to my sources, SCPD is already hot on the guy’s trail. So I don’t think they’re gonna need the Arrow for this one." 

He nodded once, his eyes still fixed on his button-down shirt on her. She had only managed to button about half of the buttons, so he could see her sports bra peeking from the top. Forcing his eyes to move, he saw that the shirt fell to her mid-thighs. Since she was still leaning against her desk, the back of the shirt had risen significantly, exposing her behind. 

"Uh, Felicity," Oliver said suddenly, looking away. "Um, are you- are you wearing pants?"

"What?" She jumped around at the question and looked down at herself. Noticing for the first time how long the shirt was on her, she laughed. "Yes, Oliver, I am. 

They’re called spandex shorts. I use them to work out."

"Oh," he replied, nodding.

Another alarm went off again, this time from her phone.

"What? Is it that carjacking?" He asked.

"No, no. You have to meet Councilman Renz for dinner tonight. You still have your other job, remember?" She smiled.

Nodding, he left her to go change. A few minutes later he returned, dressed in his usual shoes and suit pants- and no shirt. “Uh, Felicity?”

"Yeah?" She turned and laughed. "Oliver, I don’t wanna tell you how to do your job, but I don’t think the restaurant will let you in without a shirt."

"Well I would be wearing one if I hadn’t left mine hanging on the salmon ladder," He reminded her.

"Oh! Geez, sorry. Hang on," she sprinted towards the back room, where the kickboxing dummy was. 

He watched as she shuffled around some things until she found her sweater. Tilting his head, he found that he couldn’t peel his eyes from her. Her back was to him as she swiftly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. He gulped. Knowing be shouldn’t be looking at her right now, he quickly turned around. But not before stealing another glance at her.

"Um, here you go," she said, holding up the shirt. "Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a new one? I mean, you should let me wash that one first, at least."

"It’s fine, Felicity," he said as he pulled it on and began to button.

"Um, you missed one," she said, leaning up towards him.

His breath hitched as her fingers unbuttoned the top three buttons and repositioned them. He didn’t stop her as she finished buttoning the rest of the shirt.

"Thank you," he said roughly.

"Uh huh," she nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. "I’m guessing you have the whole tucking-in-your-shirt process down?"

The thought made Oliver blush, so he turned away to grab his jacket from the back of the chair. “Yes, Felicity, I do. Thank you.”

He bid her goodnight and ascended the stairs. She waved before the door shut, then leaned back against the table.

"You did not just ask Oliver if he wanted help tucking in his shirt," she muttered to herself. Groaning, she smacked herself in the forehead. "Way to go, Smoak."


End file.
